An Apple A day
by Tristan-for-Life
Summary: A girl is sent to Hadrian's Wall to help her uncle with his apple stand in the Market. But what will happen when a handsome, but mysterious scoutknight is asked to watch over her. AUish. TristanXOC
1. Chapter 1

An Apple A Day

Chapter 1: Happy Birthday

( **A/N: **This fic is rather AU, as it takes place after Baden Hill as Tristan is obviously alive. It's going to be rated M, because there will be swearing, violence and one (possibly two) scene of sexual content. Pairings: TristanXOC and you know, Bors with Vanora, Arthur with Guinevere etc. Please review as this is my first attempt at a story.)

Ophelia walked into the cozy hut she shared with her mother, Andromeda, a basket of washing in her arms. A streak of orange, two screams and Ophelia found herself on the floor, washing strewn about her.

"What was that racket, Lia?" her mother called as she rushed in from the only other room. Ophelia gazed guiltily at Andromeda. The two women could have been twins; besides the fact Andromeda being about seventeen years Ophelia's senior. Both were petite blondes with silvery blue eyes and high, aristocratic cheek bones. One wore a look of wide-eyed innocence, the other a look of someone who had known true happiness.

"I tripped over the cat, again." Ophelia spoke softly, eyes downcast.

"Well, there's no use being upset about it, come, leave the washing, I have a surprise for you." Andromeda spoke kindly, helping her daughter off the floor. They walked into the other room of the house. It was small with two beds, trunks and chairs. The two chairs were arranged around a small table. Andromeda sat down and grinned, waiting for Ophelia to take her seat, which she did quickly, wondering what her mother had in store for her.

"I have two things for you dear. First off Happy Birthday! Seventeen already? Now your Uncle Denis has been dying to see you, so for you birthday, I've decided to send to Hadrian's Wall for a month to visit him." Her mother exclaimed happily. Ophelia was ecstatic. Her Uncle Denis was her father's brother and she didn't get to see him much. The last time had been at her Father's funeral. She smiled;

"Oh! That's wonderful, thank you mum. I haven't ever been to the wall."

Andromeda nodded. "Now for you other surprise." She reached around the back of her neck and unclasped a necklace she always wore, and handed it to Ophelia. "For you, your father gave it to me as a wedding present. I want you to have it while you're away." She said quietly, slightly saddened, thinking of her dead husband.

Ophelia studied the piece of jewelry she'd seen many times before. It was a delicate silver chain with five fixed pendants, each a detailed like hawk wings. She fastened it around her slender neck.

"Thank you mum, I will keep it safe." She murmured, softly.

The next morning, before dawn even, Andromeda sent Ophelia off with a kiss to the forehead. She was to join with a caravan of traders headed for the Wall. As Ophelia stumbled along in the early morning half-light, nearly falling into a rut in the road for the seventh or eighth time, she heard a chuckle from behind. Turning her silvery eyes fell upon an ancient crone, perched on a rickety wagon.

"Good morning, Grandmother." She said, using the name as she was taught to use around her elders to show respect. The old woman beckoned her forward.

"Come here dearie, share my wagon with me." Ophelia nodded mutely and climbed up the wagon, none to gracefully. She sat next to the old woman.

"Thank you, Grandmother, please, share my breakfast with me." She insisted, knowing it was just plain polite to offer something back in return for the wagon ride. The crone nodded accepting Ophelia's offer. As they rode thoughout the morning her companion asked many questions of Ophelia, who answered back amiably. Soon the woman, Julia, was telling her of her daughter, Vanora.

"Yes, I'm going to visit her and all her children. She's the lady of one of the great Sarmatian Knights, Bors, I think. She has eleven children! Can you believe that?"

"Will the Knights really be there?" Ophelia asked with excitement and curiosity.

"But of course the Knights will be there. Hadrian's Wall is where their commander, the future King, Arthur operates from. Oh look! There's the wall as we speak." Julia said, pointing. And sure enough though the trees the massive gray stone wall could be seen, stretching across Briton. As the caravan entered the dusty fort courtyard, Ophelia clambered off the cart and helped Julia down.

"Can I accompany you anywhere, Julia?" she asked, unaware of the looks she was getting from soldiers, peasants and Knights alike.

"No, dearie, I see my grandson, Gilly, right over there." Julia smiled, patting Ophelia on the shoulder, she walked off to see her grandchildren and daughter. Ophelia looked around, unsure of where to go next. Did her Uncle know she was coming? Would he be waiting for her? Or would he be completely surprised to see her? One thing was obvious, he wasn't in the courtyard. She wandered around aimlessly, sticking to the bigger, busier streets, afraid of those that might contain dangerous men. As she walked about, getting continually dustier, she began to despair. What if this was the wrong town? What if her Uncle Denis had moved? What if she never found him? Ophelia slumped down on a door step, resting her head on her knees and hugged her long legs to her body. She idly noticed her light blue dress was muddy and starting to fray around the hem.

"Lady, are you alright?" Ophelia looked up to see very large roman, with dark, wave, brown hair and kind green eyes. He was smiling from inside the door way, whose step she was currently despairing upon. She immediately leaped up, tripping slightly over the hem of her dress.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Sir. I was just…lost." She finished lamely.

"No need to apologize, Lady. Perhaps I can be of assistance, tell me, where did you need to go? I can take you there."

"I was sent to visit my Uncle Denis, he sells apples, I think." She mumbled, slightly embarrassed that she didn't even know for sure what her uncle did for a living. The man smiled.

"I think it best to start looking in the marketplace then, this way." He stated calmly.

As he led her back through the town her asked simple question about Ophelia, to make conversation, her name, where she was from, her family, etc.

"Ah here we are –"

"Ophelia!! There you are, dear girl!" He uncle ran up from behind his stand, embracing her in a tight hug. "I thought you'd been abducted by Saxons! Lord Arthur! Thank you for bringing my niece to me." Denis said, looking to the kind man that had helped her. Ophelia quickly turned, gaping at him. This was Arthur? Oh Gods! She had been such a pathetic little girl around him. Ophelia blushed deeply and quickly looked away, muttering her thanks. After a moment of conversing with Denis, Arthur excused himself to take care of some other business. Denis hugged Ophelia again.

"So, fancy helping your Uncle Denis mange his apple stand for the next month?"

Fin Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

An Apple A Day: Chapter 2

An apple a day is a clever way to meet people.

(A/N: hides behind notebook Yes I know Tristan wasn't in the first chapter, but you have to give it time! He will pop up! I promise, this is after all a Tristan Fic. Secondly, I want to thank all the wonderful people who read or reviewed my story. Cookies for you! I will take your advice to heart, and try harder! Please, please, please, please kick my butt to make sure I update! I tend to avoid it, don't let me! Also Tell me if Ophelia is too Mary Sue-ish. I will try had to make her less annoying. Disclaimer: I only own Ophelia, her family and any random characters that are unrecognizable. If I did own the Knights, I'd have better uses for the then fan fiction!)

"I'll have a dozen red apples; I'll need them, as I'm making pie for my son's birthday." A plump friendly woman with rosy cheeks, said to Ophelia. Smiling shyly at the woman, Ophelia turned behind her to call to Denis, who was organizing his apple stores.

After reassuring her Uncle Denis that she was in fact fine, he had put her to work right away. Ophelia was to stand behind the wooden rickety apple stand in the crowded market while Denis would fetch the larger orders of apples from crates behind the stand.

"I need a dozen red apples for the lady, please." Her small voice nearly drowned out by the hundreds of people milling around. The market was held in a large square on the east wall of the fort. Here everyone came to trade, sell and gossip. Everything imaginable was there, from goats to armor. From her vantage point Ophelia could see a mad from northern Gaul selling pears next to an ancient woman spinning yarn. Mud covered children ran between everyone's legs, stealing anything they could. Already Ophelia had had issues with the urchins.

She had caught a scruffy looking boy with flaming red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose attempted to pluck a shiny green apple from a crate to her left. She had grabbed his hand and asked what exactly he thought he was doing. Shamed at being caught the child had mumbled something about being hungry. Ophelia had smiled and told him if he was hungry he could have it, as long as he never stole from her again. The boy, who was called Five, grinned, nodded and dashed off.

She jumped when a chicken squawked loudly, making the older woman in front of her chuckle.

"Fist day in the market? Don't worry; you learn to tune out the unwanted sounds." Ophelia smiled and blushed.

"Is it really that obvious?" The woman was about to reply when Denis appeared by Ophelia, holding a sturdy wicker basket of twelve apples.

"Here you are, Mistress. One dozen of my best apples" he said smiling. The woman took her apples and handed Denis two shiny coins, before waving and setting off to see about some sugar.

"How are you fairing, Ophelia? Anyone giving you any trouble?" He asked with concern.

Ophelia thought about the new people she'd met. Yes, Five had given her some trouble, but she'd straightened that out by herself, other than him, none of the stands patrons had been trouble. She had met a young girl from Wales, who being a new bride, and trying her best to make friends with her arranged husband, had bought two apples for them to share at dinner that night.

"Everything is fine, I'm just a bit overwhelmed, and that's all."

Denis patted her shoulder in a fatherly type fashion. "You'll get used to it. After you've met most of my daily patrons, would you like to run deliveries for me?"

Ophelia smiled, that sounded like more fun than standing behind the cart all day. "I'd like that."

"Good, ah, here comes one of my favorite clients now, Sir Tristan." Ophelia turned her silvery gaze to the man her uncle spoke of. "Oh my" she thought. He was quiet handsome. Tall, with broad shoulders and a muscled frame, he watched the world through strange golden eyes, slightly hidden behind long black hair that was braided in multiples placed. His chiseled cheek bones bore identical tattoos and were partially obscured under a short beard. He walked briskly towards the stand, people quickly getting out of his way, with an easy grace. His strange golden gaze lingered on Ophelia, who blushed and quickly turned away to re-fill a box with more apples.

"Good day, Sir Tristan. One green apple for you, I suppose?" Denis asked amiably. Tristan nodded in greeting.

"Yes, just one."

"Ophelia, could you please fetch Sir Tristan his green apple?" her uncle called. As she scampered off to retrieve one, Denis turned back to the Knight. "My niece, Ophelia, she's visiting for her birthday present. Nice girl, a bit of a klutz though. "

A moment later Ophelia appeared at her uncle's side and offered out the green apple. "Your apple, Sir." He nodded, taking the fruit in question, brushing his long fingers against her hand briefly as he did. Ophelia, no used to being touched by a man, spun around quickly to conceal the annoying blush that was creeping up her cheeks and knocked over a small crate in her hurry.

"Oh gods!" she rushed to gather the fallen apples back up, as her uncle kindly helped. When she glanced back up at Tristan, he was watching her with a calm, blank look on his face, but she got the distinct impression that behind those golden eyes, he was laughing at her. She dropped her gaze, her blush increasing tenfold. As she returned the now slightly dusty, but otherwise unharmed apples to the crate the apologized to Denis.

Denis chuckled. "It's quiet alright, dear girl. Accidents happen, especially around you." He turned back to Tristan, who had stood patiently the entire time. "I'll see you on the marrow; maybe we'll have another performance of Ophelia's graces again." He teased. Ophelia looked to the ground and shuffled her feet; when she glanced back up the mysterious knight was gone.

"He comes every day?" Notes of despair and anticipation mixed in her voice.

Fins Chapter 2

(A/N: Because I'm slightly paranoid, and don't tell my parents I write fanfic, I'll probably only update on the weekends, but fear not! I'll be writing throughout the week, right before I go to bed. So I'll only post about once a week, but you'll get more than one chapter a post. OK?)


	3. Chapter 3

An Apple A Day

Chapter 3: The difference between a soldier and a Knight

(A/N: Oh wow! All your reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! Anyway, I feel like the story is moving sort of fast, but I'm not really one for filler chapters. If the pace is too fast and it bugs you, please let me know…I shall try to fluff it up with pointless plot fluff. But who knows, maybe I'm just crazy and the plot progression is fine? Well sorry to ramble. On to Tristan. Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the movie. If I did, I'd have better things to do with them then write fanfic. )

The small, cozy room, which her uncle kindly made of the old store room, was bathed in early morning blue light as Ophelia sleepily stumbled out of her small wooden bed. She flinched as her tiny feet hit the freezing dirt floor. Walking like a zombie to the wooden night stand, she stubbed her toe on the small trunk at the foot of her bed.

"Drat" she mumbled. Mornings were not Ophelia's forte, but from living on a farm, she knew they were a necessary evil. She shuddered as she splashed her face with cold water from a ceramic bowl on the nightstand. What she wouldn't give for a nice soak in the stream by her house. The cool, blue water usually felt pleasantly chilly at noon. Ophelia sighed and pushed those thoughts away. Since she'd arrived five days age she'd hardly had time to sit, let alone bathe. Her Uncle Denis had her running all over the fort and surrounding country side delivering apples. Who knew apples were so popular? When she wasn't politely trying to get out of tea and apples with old ladies who wanted to tell her about the old days of their prime, she was minding the stand to make sure none of the street urchins were trying to knick an apple when Denis' back was turned. Sure Five and his siblings wouldn't give her any trouble but Hadrian's Fort, as it was locally known, still had plenty of children running around, in desperate need of a bath.

Ophelia patted her pale face with a towel and glanced out the small room's window, which was a lovely view of the blacksmith's forge. Oh well, could be worse, she thought. Quickly slipping on the second of her five dresses, a sensible neck-lined dress in green with suitably long skirts and sleeves, she hurried, with the grace of a baby horse, into the tiny kitchen. Her uncle Denis had left earlier to replenish the apples stores at the closest orchard. Ophelia absently munched on a loaf of bread she had made the night before, as she speculated about her approaching day. For the last four days, without fault, no matter how busy she seemed with deliveries, Ophelia always found herself at the apple stand when he came.

Yes, that silent and handsome Knight, without fail, would suddenly appear in front of her the moment she was just starting to catch her breath. Normally something like this wouldn't bother her, but by the Gods he made her nervous. He hardly ever spoke, for one. This meant she'd have nothing to say, Ophelia may have been smart, but conversationalist she was not, and she knew it. So for about five to fifteen minutes every day, depending on how clumsy she was and what she knocked over, she stood in awkward silence as his strange golden, hawk likes eyes followed her every, ungraceful, move. Then to increase her discomfort, whenever she handed him the apple or he handed her the money their fingers brushed. It wasn't a bad sensation, just sort of …odd.

Finished with her bread, Ophelia tugged on her leather boots that had been resting by the large stone fire place. She slipped out the wooden door, latching it behind her and quickly navigated herself though the bustling dirt streets of the fort. Weaving in and out of the people, on her way to the market, she paused at the tavern where Julia's daughter, Vanora, worked. Ophelia had never been inside, what reason did she have too? But she was mighty curious about it. Noticing how bright the sun was already, she hurried on, not wanting to be late and make Denis worry. Pushing past the chicken seller who smelt bad, she arrived at Denis' stand.

"Good Morning, Uncle." She greeted quietly, and then noticed the soldier next to him. She glanced at her uncle questioningly. Denis, who was all very average and nondescript in looks smiled, making his muddy brown eyes look more alive and greeted her.

"Morning Ophelia, dear." He turned to the solder. "Darius, this is my niece Ophelia. Ophelia, Darius will be escorting you today, as I need you to deliver in the forest, and I don't want anything to happen to you."

Ophelia smiled shyly at Darius "Thank you, Sir." She murmured.

Darius smirked, "No problem, Ophelia." He was a tall man, with a lean athletic build. His hair was a curly, ginger red and his eyes were a muddy greenish brown. He wasn't bad looking, but Ophelia thought, but she wouldn't describe him as handsome either.

She realized her uncle was talking to her. "So I need you to deliver this basket of apples to the family in the woods. Their house is easy to find, just follow the cow path, alright?" She nodded mutely and picked up the small woven basket of red and green apples. Darius nodded "This way, Miss Ophelia". He said, leading her through the market. She didn't like the way he said her name, she decided. He put too much strain on the second syllable to make it sounds like 'Oh-feel-ia'. As they walked, she wondered vaguely as to why Darius was still in Britain. He was obviously a roman legionnaire. She half remembered two young wives gossiping about the subject. Either the soldier was done serving his time in the roman army and elected to stay behind to help Arthur, or he was a deserter. Well, if he was the latter, it might explain why people were practically tripping over themselves to get out of his way.

They reached the cow path in the forest. It really was just a small strip of dirt worn down through the grass. As they wound their ways through the forest, Ophelia began to feel a slight, prickling sense of unease. Deciding to say nothing of this feeling, she cast her gaze around the lush greenery of the forest; nothing seemed out of the ordinary, after all Darius seemed to be confident as to where he was leading her. Still…Ophelia sighed, inhaling the lovely fresh sent of the forest, especially after the rain the night before. She decided her unease was just silly. Looking forward again, she nearly dropped her basket of apples. Darius was nowhere to be seen. She quickly turned in all directions, scanning the forest for her escort.

"Darius…" she called softly. Suddenly a hand clamped down on her mouth, depriving her of her power to shriek. Darius, because it wasn't a Woad, knocked the apples out of her arms. He roughly grabbed her wrists and spun her around. The look in his green brown eyes was wild and frightening. She tried to struggle away, but his grasp was like iron. The forest no longer seemed lovely; it was cruel for making her such an easy target. Darius bent his head to kiss her neck.

"Don't worry, it will –" He jerked at an odd angle and slammed into her while his limbs went lax. He gasped before crumpling forward, bringing her to the ground with him. Ophelia started screaming the moment his hand left her mouth. There was a giant dead, would-be rapist pinning her to the ground. The next thing she knew Darius' body was jerked off her, she stared up in amazement. Tristan stood before her, a bow notched and ready in his hands, aimed at Darius' body. His top lip pulled back in snarl, revealing his straight white teeth and his golden eyes smoldering with hate. With one glance at her, he relaxed his face into its neutral stare. He moved towards her slowly. Setting his weapon down onto the emerald grass, he took her delicate face between his large calloused hands, gently turning her head, peering at her intently to check for any injuries. He deftly moved his hands down her neck, shoulders and arms to make sure there was no damage done. Throughout the whole examination Ophelia sat perfectly still, like the marble her skin resembled. She was too overwhelmed to even register the odd sensation of his skin against hers.

"Are you alright?" he said, his exotic golden eyes burning into her silver ones. She nodded once, then the situation hit her, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fainted. Tristan caught her slight shoulders and gently eased her to the ground. He quickly unstrung his bow, a beautiful hand tooled cherry wood long bow he had made himself, and strapped it to his back. Tristan then picked up Ophelia's pale form and with a final glance at that…monster's corpse, he set off for the fort at a leisurely jog. Hopping it would provide wild animals with enough time to gnaw on the body a bit.

(A/N: holy pancakes batman! That was a lot! How was the description? Good thing Tristan tends to hang out in the forest randomly. Review? Please? Anyway, I got some messages asking how old Ophelia was, so yeah, to clarify, she's 17, and Tristan is about ten-ish years older. That's a little odd for our times but back then, it was relatively normal.)


	4. Chapter 4

An Apple A Day Chapter 4

Volunteer Work

(A/N: Ahh! I'm soooo sorry, this is freakishly late! Eep! I have excuses', homecoming weekend, my birthday, but I'm sure you don't want to hear them. Yeah, I don't really like this chapter too much, it was awkward to right, because I've never really been in the situation, and it's not really something you can ask people about. So anyway, here's my rather late chapter 4, enjoy! Disclaimer: Yeah, don't own it. Just wish I did.)

Ophelia's head hurt. She could feel the blood rushing to her brain. Tentatively opening her eyes, she looked around. Where was she? Certainly no place she'd been before. She was lying on a table in a small dark kitchen. The room was dominated by the hearth and a wooden cupboard that was painted light blue, the only other furniture in the cramped room where a few chairs. Managing to sit up, she got a better look at where she was. Turning, she could see a window that had been behind her, outside was the emerald greenery of the forest…was she in the forest family's hut? The family whom she had been sent to deliver apples too? Ophelia wondered, but before she could speculate more voices through the open door way of another room wafted into the kitchen and caught her attention, though she could only catch a few words.

"Tried …take advantage…reputation sullied...pig." she couldn't place the masculine voice that had uttered those words, though it was familiar. Ophelia let her mind drift back to what had happened. She shuttered. If Sir Tristan hadn't been there… during the whole ordeal she had been violently gripped with fear, she hadn't been able to move. Her insides had felt like they were being clenched with an iron fist. Thank the gods for Tristan…wait, Tristan! Yes, that was the owner of the voice she heard from the other room.

"I wonder why though?" Was that Uncle Denis? Either way the men from the conversation had drifted closer to the door.

"He was a deserter, I gather, no morals. Poor girl though, she didn't deserve that." That was Arthur, she imagined.

"No one does." Tristan definitely said that.

She saw a shadow fall in the doorway and a moment later the men, Tristan, her Uncle Denis, and Arthur, entered the room.

"Miss Ophelia, you've woken." Arthur said, looking kindly at her.

Ophelia looked towards the men and blushed, they knew what had happened. Would they punish her? She wandered. Often girls who had been …put in her position became outcasts, their reputations destroyed. No one wants what someone already had after all. Denis stepped forward, ready to hug her, but hung back after a moment, unsure if physical contact would be the best. Arthur smiled kindly, making his green eyes sparkle. "How are you feeling?"

Ophelia, nervous around the future king, muttered something about being fine, just somewhat shaken.

Nodding, Arthur said "Yes that's quite understandable."

Ophelia lowered her silver eyes, ready for a scolding, when no one spoke for a few awkward moments, as the uncomfortable silence descended upon them, Denis cleared his throat.

"Ophelia, dear I –"he stopped for a moment to collect himself, "I'm sorry, If I would have known…" he trailed off.

Her eyes snapped up, looking at her uncle. "So I'm not in trouble?" Her words met shocked silence.

"It wasn't your fault." Tristan said, from the back of the room, this exotic eyes resting on her. She chanced meeting his gaze, and was only able to hold it for a moment, before looking back at her small folded hands.

Arthur glanced at Tristan, and then spoke. "We should get back to the wall. I need to have this officially recorded by a scribe. Darius," Ophelia flinched at the name, her pretty face contorted with fear for a brief second, as the terror she had felt in the forest flooded through her. "Darius, though Roman was a deserter, so there's no need to inform Rome."

As everyone seemed to be in agreement that they should soon depart, Ophelia hopped off the waist high table she had been sitting on, a momentary wave of dizziness hitting her, causing her to nearly fall. A strong hand gripped her arm above the elbow, steadying her. She turned to see Tristan staring down at her with a completely unreadable expression on his handsome face. She blushed and muttered her thanks, he nodded in reply.

The ride home was a blur, because Denis only owned one horse, Tristan shared his ride with her. She vaguely remembered being picked up and set effortlessly onto his horse. She could almost recall the feeling of his well toned arm around her and the blurring of the forest as they galloped past. Unfortunately for her, the hideousness of the previous events kept playing over and over in her mind. She flushed violently, shamefully, recalling the feeling of that...Person's hands on her, and then blushed even more, although for a different reason, at the memory of Tristan's calloused, but gentle ands on her face. She was very glad he couldn't see her face at the moment.

She felt herself leaning back into Tristan's chest and falling into a stress induced, but blissful slumber enticed by the mix of forest scents and the smell of leather. Only much later that night would she wake in her own small bed, to find her window open, causing a cool breeze to ruffle her golden hair and dark hawk's feather to float down to her floor.

Tristan stood silently on the Wall's battlements, his wild hair whipped around by the breeze; his golden eyes watching the horizon for first light, after all that's when the real work would start. He sighed, why did that silly girl matter so much? He wasn't sure. Ophelia was clumsy and annoyingly timid around him, but still…; He whistled, calling his hawk to him. Tomorrow would be interesting, as he had offered to escort Ophelia around, making sure her extreme naiveté didn't land her in another precarious spot.

(Wow that took me about 5 hours to type, because it's my birthday, and I've been watching movies as I type. So yeah, I hope you like it)

(Plus she's been talking to me 3 ---Tori. Her beta reader.)


	5. Chapter 5

An Apple A Day, Chapter 5

"What did she do?"

(A/N: thanks to everyone who reads or reviews, it really means a lot to me and helps me keep going. I'm not supper satisfied with my last chapter…but it was sort of awkward to write. Sorry I haven't been updating but school is so crazy, it's PAST time and tests galore. Every have a teacher that thinks you don't get enough homework in you other classes so they feel the need to heap on the homework in their class? Lol. Any way on to the story. Disclaimer: Yeah...I don't own anything besides Ophelia and extra characters that don't seem familiar from the movie. )

Ophelia stood before her Uncle Denis, the strong October winds whipping her golden hair out of its careful braid. She tried to focus her attention on the list of locations and people her uncle was dictating to her, but her thoughts kept wandering to the dark and mysterious Knight, who, unbeknownst to her was standing a few paced behind her.

"And finally, I need you to get the blacksmith's wife's order for Samhain in. She always makes the best cider." Ophelia nodded, trying to sort through the important information and excess stuff Denis always added.

"Right, ok! I think I have it all." She nodded enthusiastically, picking up a brown wicker basket, brimming with ripe golden apples. She turned quickly to walk to her first destination, Vanora's Tavern, but the solid object that was Tristan and her uncle's cry of 'Ophelia; made her nearly drop the basket. Unfortunately, as she bumped into Tristan and nearly jumped out of her skin, she lost her balance. Her feet twisted at a funny interlocking angle and she wobbled a bit before she fell forward into Tristan's chest. (The basket of apples was luckily pinned between them, so they didn't spill, but it added to the extreme discomfort and awkwardness of the situation at hand.) She felt a well toned arm around her waist, steadying her. Sir Tristan, who she now realized had been standing behind her, looked quizzically at her.

"First day with your new feet?" He asked, his tone was polite, with a vague undertone of sarcasm. She blinked fast for a second, to let everything sink in, and then quickly disentangled herself from his arms, blushing violently as she did so, and mumbled her thanks. Tristan nodded slowly, his strange eyes peering down at her, for he was nearly a head taller than her, for a moment before addressing Denis.

"Tavern, bakers, blacksmith?" Denis concurred and Tristan gripped Ophelia by her upper left arm steering her through the jostling crowd of people, to their first stop. His grip was strong but not painful. Ophelia was confused, not to mention embarrassed. Why was Tristan with her? Was he angry? He seemed sort of annoyed, but then she didn't know him well enough to guess at his moods. As she puzzled over the reason for her companion she bit her bottom lip, in an unintentionally way that made the small idiosyncrasy intoxicating.

A quiet cough brought her out of her thoughts. Tristan's golden eyes were focused on her demure face. She was surprised to see they had found their way through the hustle-bustle of the fort's dirt streets to the tavern. She grew embarrassed when the thought hit her that they might have been standing there for quite some time, and she'd been too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice. Ophelia nodded quickly at the silent scout and hurried in to seek out the proprietor …or perhaps the cook.

Upon entering the tavern, Ophelia was struck by its openness. One didn't actually 'enter', as it was more like a large open space with many wooden tables and chairs for decoration. The front 'wall' was more like a row of connected columns. The only roofed areas were the bar / kitchen space. Along the two great side walls an outcropping of slanted tile roof stuck out about a foot and a drain ran through the center of the stone floor, for cleaning she supposed. She stood a few feet in front of the cobbled threshold, scanning the mostly vacant room for someone to make her delivery too. Ophelia spotted a pretty redheaded woman wiping down one of the scratched wooden tables, and quickly hurried over to her.

"Um, Good morning, Ma'am, I'm here with the apple delivery…" she spoke softly.

The redhead woman smiled kindly. "You must be Ophelia! I've heard so much about you. I'm Vanora." Ophelia smiled back and nodded, so this was Julia's daughter and Five's mum. She was really very glad to have met the woman. Vanora was friendly and put skittish Ophelia at ease.

"I've brought the apples you ordered." She motioned to the wicker basket perched on her arm.

"Of course, come into the kitchen dear." Vanora briskly headed for the room at the back of the tavern, behind the bar, Ophelia half jogging to keep up.

The kitchen was a stifling room, with a gargantuan fire place and huge barrels to brew ale an beer in. The other tavern girls were scurrying around, getting meat pies and other delectable smelling food ready for the night. Ophelia turned her pretty head every which way; she had never been in such an interesting place before. Hurrying to keep up with Vanora, as she still needed paying, she didn't see the rather large table in front of her.

"Oof!" Ophelia gasped as her stomach collided with the pointed corner, stumbling back she ran into another serving girl, who had been carrying a large pile of dishes. Ophelia watched with horror as the teetering tower of plates went flying into the air. The whole kitchen seemed to have gone inhumanly still, more silent than a graveyard. Then the sound of dozens of ceramic plates and bowls hitting ceramic tile set the other girls into frenzy. Bustling to get back to work or help clean the mess. Ophelia stood, rooted to the spot, beet red. Her long thin fingers spaded in dismay over her shimmering silver eyes. Vanora ran over, and was about to speak, probably to give Ophelia a good verbal lashing, when Tristan dashed in, dark hair flying behind him, a hint of worry and annoyance on his handsome face."What did she do?"

(So do awkward moments define that girl's life or what? I hope you all liked it, and I hope I'm sticking to the characters well. The next two chapters will be her at the bakers and the blacksmiths, so expect more embarrassing moments. I'm sure Tristan finds them amusing, and I hope you all do too!)


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